


Pride

by days4daisy



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Extra Treat, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Thor: Ragnarok (2017), Protectiveness, Stubborn Warriors Being Stubborn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-06
Updated: 2019-07-06
Packaged: 2020-06-02 12:51:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19441819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/days4daisy/pseuds/days4daisy
Summary: “You are relieved of your duties until I see fit, Heimdall.”





	Pride

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Snickfic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snickfic/gifts).



> I hope you have a lovely MCUEx, Snickfic!

“What did you say?”

They are words Heimdall never remembers saying to a leader. He has offered counsel many times, words of warning, or contradictory opinions. At moments of great strife, he has even openly dissented against the throne.

It was for this boy not long ago that Heimdall stood before Odin All-Father and declared his own treason. And it is to this boy, in the infancy of his reign, that Heimdall speaks four never-considered words.

The room comes to a complete stop.

A raised brow is Thor’s only show of surprise. He rubs fingers across his bearded jaw and repeats, “You are relieved of your duties until I see fit, Heimdall.”

Reclined against the wall, the Valkyrie cocks her head with interest. The Hulk, even in his larger and less advanced state, stares between the two. Loki folds his arms across the back of his brother’s makeshift throne. It is a spinning flight deck chair overlooking the vastness of space. Better to look ahead than towards the wreckage of Asgard behind.

Loki grins at Heimdall with unbridled delight. Until Thor elbows his chest and mutters at him to get off.

Heimdall has witnessed everything this universe has to offer. He has seen moments of triumph and loss. Times of celebration and violence. He has watched all manner of species rise above their station or sink to the deepest pits of depravity. But never in Heimdall's many years has he felt the humiliation of this moment.

Given Heimdall's long tradition of service, some may doubt the existence of his pride. They could not be more wrong. Heimdall's pride in his people spurs his ego. He would defy any to tell him he is unfit to serve Asgard. He would defy even his king.

It is Thor’s single weary eye that stops Heimdall from pursuing this emotion. Thor does not hold his posture upright as kings should. Among his closest company, he slumps on his makeshift throne. But the grave set of Thor's expression says that his decision is final.

Thor is wrong to dismiss Heimdall. He sees the error on Thor’s bowed back. In pain that lingers from the eye so recently lost. In the guilt that tenses Thor's jaw and the lingering ache of battle that trembles in his fingers.

Heimdall’s king needs him. Only, it seems he does not. “Your majesty,” Heimdall says with a curt bow.

Behind Thor, Loki waves and flashes a charming smile.

As Heimdall makes his ginger retreat, Thor grumbles, “Loki, would you stop that?”

“What?" Loki counters. "It’s rude not to say farewell. Any half-decent king knows that, brother.”

***

It takes two tries for Heimdall's hail to be answered. When it is at last, it is with a mumbled, "Come in."

Heimdall prepares himself in the hours that follow his dismissal. Despite his anger, it is better to wait until the hour turns late and activity on the Statesman slows. The most boisterous of those awake take to the ship's lower level, turned into a makeshift bar. Heimdall remains unclear whether their entire stock of alcohol hails from Sakaar. It is possible Asgard's survivors were...resourceful enough on their own.

Inventory. One of many tasks assigned to Heimdall that will now fall to another due to his dismissal.

Heimdall prepares for as strong-willed an argument as necessary. This territory is new. What will Heimdall find it in himself to say to his king in this fit of embarrassment? Will he, if the situation turns dire, dare to come to blows?

Upon entering Thor's chamber, Heimdall sees that these more contentious scenarios were far-fetched. Thor knows it is him by the way he stays slumped on the chair before his dresser. A tumbler of pink spirit sits on the tabletop.

Thor does not turn, but Heimdall sees him through his mirror reflection. Pain creases Thor's brow. He rubs fingers in a slow circle against his temple. The eye guard that once belonged to his father still graces his face.

"Withdraw your order," Heimdall says.

Thor's reflection meets his gaze. "When I see fit," he replies.

Anger simmers under Heimdall's skin like a pot coming to boil. "And when will that be?" he asks. It takes effort to keep his voice neutral.

"When you start making decisions for the benefit of this company."

Thor would not take this action without what he believes to be cause. But the statement still catches Heimdall off guard. His mouth struggles to form words. When it succeeds, it is with blatant incredulity. "Are you accusing me of something?" Heimdall poses the question without any formal title to soften its bite.

Thor lets out a heaving sigh. It seems to deflate what little resolve he carries in his shoulders. "No," Thor says. "I would never question your loyalty, Heimdall. I thought you knew that."

"Before today, I thought I knew that as well," Heimdall murmurs. This brings a smile to Thor's lips, but he does not dispute it.

With ginger steps, Heimdall crosses Thor's chamber floor. Through the mirror, he sees Thor's fingers continue their slow circle at his temple. "You shamed me today," Heimdall tells him.

Thor exhales slowly. "It was not my intention."

"You shamed me and dismissed me with no reason given as to the cause."

"It was not a discussion I wished to have in front of even the close circle in that room," Thor says. He finally turns his chair so Heimdall can look upon him without his reflection's aid.

Without the soft light touching the glass, Thor's skin appears even more sickly. This state is understandable given the grief of the past few days. More unsettling is the swollen pink lining the edges of Thor's eye guard. "You need to see a healer," Heimdall tells Thor.

Thor's wry smile returns. "That makes two of us," he says.

Heimdall shakes his head. "My wounds are minor next to others. The healers are taxed seeing to our people."

"Last I checked," Thor says slowly, "you are one of our people." His voice darkens in a way Heimdall cannot recall in many years.

Heimdall frowns. "As are you," he points out.

This pulls a humorless laugh from Thor's lips. "As am I," he agrees. Thor sounds so tired. "Will that be all?"

Heimdall's answer comes in the form of a shattered tumbler against Thor's dresser.

They both stare at the puddle of wasted spirit and glass in the aftermath. "I was working on that," Thor says with regret.

"We are all in pain," Heimdall tells him strongly. "Grieving. Aching. But I have served my people with honor and will continue to do so."

"You will," Thor agrees. "When I see fit." His single eye fixes on Heimdall with the weight of two. In his gaze, Heimdall sees the shadow of his father.

Heimdall shakes his head. "You have no right-"

"I have every right," Thor interrupts. His jaw clenches. "Or was the responsibility of kingship given to me as a formality?"

Frustration tightens Heimdall's throat. "It is my duty to Asgard-"

"Your duty is to _stop limping._ " Thor's single eye blazes. A whisper of white hot flame blisters through the iris. "Your duty is to see a healer, which you have not done. To sleep, which you have not done. To eat and hydrate, which you have not done. To reach a state where I can perform my obligations without constantly looking at you. Wondering how long it will take for you to pass out on the bridge."

Heimdall frowns at him. "I will not-"

"You will not, because until I see fit you won't _be_ on the bridge. I've made my decision." It's like the strength drains from Thor at once. The light dies from his eye, leaving exhaustion behind. His gaze sink from Heimdall as his fingers return to his temple. "That will be all," he says.

At once, Thor is the boy Heimdall once knew. Before the warrior accolades or his official naming as successor to Odin's throne. Before the boasts and the arrogance. Thor is the boy who grinned for the court, but whose lip quivered when he believed no one looking.

In Heimdall's many years at his post, he cannot remember consideration of this nature given to his well-being. He has served generous rulers, thoughtful, even kind. But in all the centuries, through all the strife, he cannot.

"Thor," Heimdall says, anger gone from his voice. "You are afraid. I understand. But this is not the time."

Thor's laugh is a hoarse rasp. "Look around you, Heimdall. Look at what little we have left. Without fear, we may as well lose the rest."

Heimdall shakes his head. "You're not well," he says quietly.

Thor smiles without mirth. "Neither are you," he says, "and I need you to be. As close as you can. I need you, Heimdall."

Heimdall releases a slow breath. After a moment, he sets a gentle hand on Thor's head. Thor closes his single eye, and his head bows forward. It is as if he has been waiting for someone to help carry the burden. Heimdall says, "On one condition."

A new smile comes, this one with a shred of levity. "I don't recall conditions in my initial order."

"I don’t care what you recall," Heimdall says. His bluntness draws a surprised laugh from Thor. "The condition is that every night, I'm here. Every night, you look me in my eyes and tell me I'm still unfit to serve you. No matter each night’s outcome, I stay. I ensure my king is well, since you deny me outside this room."

Thor shakes his head. the motion makes his hair sift through Heimdall's fingers. "You need rest, Heimdall."

"As do you," Heimdall says. "Yet I find you nursing spirits when you should be gracing your untouched bed with your presence."

"Ah. I see." A touch of the Thor Heimdall knows brightens his tired face. "This has all been an excuse to get into my bed."

Heimdall sighs through a hidden smile. "Well?"

Thor's chuckle is small but genuine. He draws Heimdall's hand from his hair and presses a kiss to the knuckles.

The final stitch of Heimdall's anger unravels. "Come on," he says.

Thor nods and stands for him. On slow, limping steps they guide each other to bed.

*The End*


End file.
